


If Markiplier Were Your Boyfriend

by orphan_account



Category: letsplay, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Markiplier - Freeform, markiplier imagines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would give you a ridiculous nickname like he does with characters from the video games he plays. He’ll call you Tootsie Wootsie because he saw you eating a Tootsie Roll one time; he’ll call you McSocky because you couldn’t find your favorite pair of fuzzy socks on a cold day; he’ll call you Maily Mailman when you bring in the newspaper; he’ll call you Roberto, he’ll call you Dandelion Fuzz, he’ll call you Purple Nurple. All for ridiculous reasons, but regardless of the why, it makes you laugh every time. At first, you try to keep a straight face because you don’t want to encourage him, but you can’t help it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Markiplier Were Your Boyfriend

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would give you a ridiculous nickname like he does with characters from the video games he plays. He’ll call you Tootsie Wootsie because he saw you eating a Tootsie Roll one time; he’ll call you McSocky because you couldn’t find your favorite pair of fuzzy socks on a cold day; he’ll call you Maily Mailman when you bring in the newspaper; he’ll call you Roberto, he’ll call you Dandelion Fuzz, he’ll call you Purple Nurple. All for ridiculous reasons, but regardless of the why, it makes you laugh every time. At first, you try to keep a straight face because you don’t want to encourage him, but you can’t help it.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would always bring you back a white chocolate Kitkat when he went to the store, because he knows they’re your favorite.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would put his bite-guard in at night and make you laugh when he tried to talk to you. He wouldn’t be able to say anything with an “s” or “c” in it without sounding like a cartoon character. You would laugh so hard, you wouldn’t be able to breathe – you would cry tears of hilarity, with the bright light of the bulb in the courtyard outside of your window peeking through your blinds. He would put his hand on your back and tell you to breathe as he laughed too.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would sing in the shower, changing all of the female names in the songs to yours.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would tell you that he loved you. He would want to say it about a million times before he actually told you. You’d both be in bed, about to fall asleep, and he would tell you. You would say it back and mean it, but not before hiding your face in his shoulder and giggling while you asked him if he really did love you. He said yes, he did mean it. You would be the happiest you’ve ever been, which is saying something, because even after all of the bad shit that’s ever happened to you, you’ve always been pretty happy.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would attempt to make you homemade brownies from scratch for your birthday, because he knows you prefer them over cake.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, the two of you would get drunk downtown. It would be so packed in your favorite bar – the one with the best fries – that you would have to sit at the bar on a stool while he stood behind you. You’d turn around so your back was to the taps, facing him instead. You wouldn’t be able to stop touching one another. You would tell him about the tattoo you wanted, about the placement of it. He suggested your thigh, rather than the back of your shoulder, so that if the two of you ever got married and you wore a backless dress, it wouldn’t be the center of attention. You agreed. When the people sitting next to you leave, they would wish you luck on your wedding.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would wiggle his eyebrows at you from across the table at a massive family dinner, just to make you uncomfortable.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, you would spend all Sunday afternoon watching Netflix together. You’d intertwine your limbs with his; you’d stare at his hands instead of the television; you’d turn your face every five minutes to kiss him. He would ask if he should stay the night or go home and you would tell him that it was up to him. He decided to stay, telling you that the way things were between the two of you was how life is supposed to be.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would spend an entire day popping out of corners and scaring you. You would scream every time and slap him on the shoulder while he laughed at you.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would surprise you with an old, rescued golden retriever. You would keep his original name – Buster – and you would cry into his fur while Mark taped your reaction. You would look up at him from your crouched position in front of your new dog, and with tears in your eyes, you would thank him. You would both be so happy to finally have a dog together, especially a golden retriever. Buster would stink, and his breath would be awful, but he would be perfect for the two of you.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would fart while the two of you are driving to a movie. He would just smile at you when you asked him if he had done it. You would roll down the windows while shaking your head.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would let you sob into his chest when you received the news that you grandfather had passed away. You cried about how Mark would never get to meet the man who had basically raised you, who had taught you how to ride a bike, who had passed along his passion for cooking. He would whisper soothing phrases into your ear as he rubbed your back, assuring you that everything would be okay. You would calm down enough to dry your eyes and take a few deep breaths, thinking that your tears were through. Whenever you began to cry again, he would take you into his arms and kiss your hair. He knew the pain you felt, and he let you drain yourself of all of your sadness while he held you.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, the two of you would play tic-tac-toe on the paper placemats at diners. He would always win.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would take a picture of you tangled up in the blankets of the bed you share. You would be sleeping, and your hair would be a mess, but he would post it on his Instagram with the caption “How lucky am I to wake up to this every day?” and he would refuse to delete it after you begged him. He would tell you how beautiful you are and spank your ass, instead.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would want you to play Five Nights at Freddy’s, but you would absolutely refuse. Because fuck that.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would be nervous to meet your family for the first time. Your mom and your brother aren’t scary people, and you’re excited for them to finally meet, but you understand his fear. You were terrified to meet his mother. He gets along fabulously with your brother, and they talk about video games until their faces turn blue. It gives you time for you and your mom to catch up, so you don’t mind. Once the two of you get home from the day spent with your family, your brother texts you and says, “We both approve of Mark. Good job.”

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would take a picture of his bicep, blow it up to 8.5x11, wrap it in a fancy box, and give it to you for Christmas.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, you would know that you are safe with him. You can tell him anything and you know that he won’t judge you. You can laugh together, you can cry together, and you can start the rest of your lives together.


End file.
